The Stuff of Dreams
by DarcieLeeds
Summary: Rose has seen many strange and terrible things in her short time traveling with the Doctor. Surely these will affect her somehow...
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: "Doctor Who" is the property of the BBC. No infringement is intended._

The marketplace was bustling with activity. Rose's eyes were wide as she watched the many shoppers who stopped at the stalls to haggle with the sellers. In her short time traveling with the Doctor, she had seen a fair amount of variety in life forms, but the sheer diversity of the crowds who congregated here was still impressive and a bit surprising to her twenty-first century Terran eyes.

Creatures somewhat resembling the Slitheen trudged past her. There were other patrons with four arms and six small eyes. Some shoppers had blue skin, which she had seen once before, while other had silvery scales, something less familiar to her. Rising up from the crowd were several beings that stood at least three meters tall, heads seeming to wobble on gangly necks. At the opposite end of the spectrum were the tiny critters that rushed about past her feet. They were quick, almost too fast for her eyes to process, as they dashed through the dense crowd as easily as if it had been an open field.

The noises were of every kind, too. It seemed that all of the consumers and merchants were talking, but their voices and languages spanned every conceivable pitch, speed, and rhythm, and then some.

Rose felt a bit disoriented. She stood still for a few minutes to figure out just where she should go and how to get there. She had lost sight of the Doctor some time ago. He'd said he would go to the left and sent her to the right. They were looking for a compound he called Divurcistine; he'd told her he needed it to improve the interface in the communications panel, or something like that. He'd given her a small disk that he said would pay for the material if she found it. Apparently it was rather rare, but the Doctor thought that the Kavzendorian Marketplace would have it if anywhere would.

Rose made her way to a stall and asked the turquoise-haired man (she used the term loosely, because really he resembled a cow more than anything else, with his long ears, wide snout, and large eyes) if he knew where she could find Divurcistine. He mooed (really, it did sound just like bovine lowing) then told her to try some of the vendors clustered beneath a bright orange awning about twenty meters down the line.

Rose thanked him and jostled her way through the crowd toward the awning. After several more inquiries, she was directed toward the stall at the back of the grouping. The quick, diminutive creatures seemed to operate this area, and most stood up on high chairs or even ladders to be at eye level with their customers. Their movements, Rose noticed, were equally swift as they took items from boxes, accepted payments, and made change. She could hardly see their hands moving, just a flash then the requested object would appear in the customer's hands.

"D'you have any Divurcistine?" she asked the nearest vendor.

He made a squealing noise and darted onto the table to leap up and look all around.

He said something, but his words came out too fast for her to understand. Funny, the language translator capabilities that the TARDIS gave her didn't seem to work on these creatures. She would have to ask the Doctor about that later.

She repeated the question, this time watching the little vendor's wide mouth carefully. His lips moved, then he twirled about and was back before her in an instant. He held out a small box. She began to reach for it, but he jumped up again then scurried back toward the edge of the tent, beckoning to Rose with motions almost too rapid to see.

She stepped around the table, took the box from him, and opened the lid. Inside she saw a greenish lump of faintly glowing goo. "This is Divurcistine?" she asked.

The tiny salesman was gesturing at her. She had the feeling that he was purposely slowing his movements, but still his hands were a blur to her. He seemed to be pointing at her jacket pocket.

She reached inside and removed the payment disk. He snatched it out of her hand—or at least she thought he did. She didn't actually see the motions, but suddenly the disk was gone. He was jabbering at her again, his voice strident but still incomprehensible. She held out her hands, palms up, to indicate that she couldn't understand.

In a flash another disk appeared in her hand. This one was slightly smaller, and it was hot. As a matter of fact, it seemed to be burning her hand. With a small gasp she dropped it to the ground.

The vendor gesticulated wildly, and another tiny salesman appeared at her side to swoop down. He pointed at her pocket. She tucked her hand inside and found that the disk had been placed in there.

With apparently great effort, the vendor spat out, "Change!" or at least that was what Rose thought he said.

With a shake of her head, Rose backed around the table and turned away from the tent. She nearly bumped into a very large man who lumbered out in front of her. He appeared human, at least almost so, but his huge head sat atop an extremely sturdy neck, and his massive hands were impressive extensions of his brawny arms.

"'Scuse me," she stammered.

He glared at her with small, intense eyes then bumped past her into the tent. She heard him bellow and turned back to look. The little creatures were nowhere to be seen. With a shrug, she hurried away.

All the movement, all the high-pitched, staccato voices were making her slightly dizzy. The day was very warm, too, and she was tired, sweaty, and hot. She held the box in one hand and made her way back through the crowd.

"Oi, Rose!"

The familiar voice was very welcome. She peered through the people and other life forms and caught a glimpse of a black leather jacket.

"Doctor! Over here!" she called.

He hustled his way through the throng to stand before her.

"Is this it?" she asked, opening the box.

"Yep. Where'd you find it?"

She pointed. "Back that way, under the orange canopy."

"Good work." He turned and began to walk.

Rose trotted after him. "Back to the TARDIS now?"

"Yeah. Unless there's something else you want to look at here. They've got just about everything under the suns… Muwerddy porcelain, Quoxicallian jewelry, full collections of the works of Tpleticamamanon the Great, though most are fakes—"

"I think I've seen enough."

He glanced down at her. "Really? You're not curious about what else is here?"

She shook her head. "I've got a pretty good idea."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. But the Orxtellanese taffy really can't be beat—"

Rose continued walking, still watching the crowds. "I got back change," she said, reaching into her pocket.

"Keep it. You may want it for something later."

The TARDIS had landed some distance from the main marketplace, and by the time the blue box came into view the throngs had diminished. There were still shoppers strolling about, but the atmosphere had calmed considerably. The Doctor had pointed out various items to her as they walked, but none really interested her. He did not purchase anything, either, saying that he had piles of souvenirs and knickknacks stashed away already—"probably about five hundred years' worth," he added.

As he reached into his pocket for the key, she asked, "Why didn't the TARDIS translate the vendor's language for me?"

He glanced at her with surprise. "It didn't?"

She shook her head. "No—except for the last word he said."

"What did the language sound like?"

"Really quick and shrill. Just a bunch of jabbering."

He patted the side of the police box. "She translated it, but it was just too fast for you to understand."

"Yeah?"

"Some species' communication is more rapid than ours. The TARDIS normally just translates the words, not the rhythm or pace. Were they small, about like so?" He held his hand at thigh level.

"Smaller."

"Yep. Probably Nermisticans. Very skilled with chemistry—this'll be good stuff," he held up the box, "but not very patient with other species. Their minds work so fast that they tend to get annoyed with most everyone else—and they aren't very good at making friends."

"How fast do their minds work?"

"Their neurons fire fifty times for every one of yours."

"An' yours?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Depends. I can adjust mine as needed."

"So you would've been able to understand them?"

"Yep."

He opened the door, and they stepped inside. Rose was glad to be back in the lofty console room. The entire shopping experience had left her head spinning. The sheer variety of species… She supposed she'd get used to such things, eventually, but for the moment she was glad that her only companion here was the Doctor.

He fiddled at the console for a minute or two then retrieved Rose's purchase from the box before settling onto his back on the floor. Sonic screwdriver in one hand and Divursticine in the other, he reached up beneath the console.

Rose flopped down in a chair and picked up a magazine. She flipped through it for a few minutes, but the articles she began to read made her yawn. She leaned back to rest her head against the cushion. In a minute she had drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Wake up, Rose."

Someone was shaking her shoulder. She opened her eyes, feeling disoriented at first. Everything was blurry, as though she were still half asleep.

"Come on, Rose. I need your help."

She blinked, roused by the urgency in Jackie's voice. "What is it?" she asked.

"Get up. Come on!"

Jackie was pulling her arm, tugging her out of her bed.

"What's going on, Mum?" Rose asked sleepily.

"There's a leak. Water's runnin' out all over the kitchen—ruinin' that new rug and the tile, too."

She was dragging Rose through the house, toward the kitchen. The floor beneath her feet was wet, and her socks squelched over the soggy carpeting. Jackie was talking a mile a minute, grabbing towels and handing a stack to Rose. Once inside the kitchen, Jackie began sopping up the water from the floor.

Rose looked around, eyes fixing on the sink, but she couldn't see where the water was coming from. Something smelled a bit funny, and her nose wrinkled in disgust. There was a faint odor of blood, and the water pooling at her ankles had a red tinge to it.

"Mum! Something's in the water," Rose began.

"Rust," Jackie cut in. "Must've eaten through the pipes." Water was gushing out from beneath the sink now, and Jackie threw up her hands. "Damn it! We'll never get this all up!"

She thrust the remaining towels into Rose's hands and sloshed out of the kitchen.

"Where're you going?" Rose asked.

"Next door for a wrench."

"But if the pipes are worn through, a wrench won't do any good."

"I'm going to shut off the valve." Jackie hurried toward the front door.

Rose stood in the rising water for a minute, confused. Cold was seeping up from her feet and ankles, and the smell of blood had grown stronger. She felt her stomach churning as she looked down to see that the water was deep red now.

She had to get out of it, out of the house… She turned, but the water seemed to suck at her ankles, holding her in place. She moved her legs, twisting them with more and more force until they were aching from the effort. The water level was rising, and now the liquid was thick and opaque, and the stench was overwhelming.

With one final burst of effort, she freed her left foot and took a step toward the living room. Her right foot slipped out of the liquid with a plop, and she thought she felt her ankle pop as a spark of pain twisted up her calf.

She had to get to the door, away from the smell and the heat and the flood… She gripped the couch, pulling herself along as the blood flowed out of the kitchen, lapping at her ankles again. Her calf was throbbing, and the pain was making it hard to move, but she had to go, to get out.

She reached the door. It was open, and she could see Jackie standing in the hall.

"Mum! We have to get out of here! Water's rising, an' we—"

Jackie turned to her, and Rose froze in horror. Her mother's face was twisted in agony and dread. Her clothing was soaked with blood, which was swirling all around her legs. She was pale, white in fact, and her features were locked in a mask of abject terror.

"Mum!" Rose cried, reaching out, but Jackie stood still. The blood was up to her waist now, and her eyes stared straight ahead, unseeing.

"Oh God, Mum!" Rose panted, desperately wading through the thick sludge, but the pain in her calf held her back, and even as she tried to move ahead Jackie fell, floating on the blood, washing away… and then the blood pulled her down, sucking at her shoulders, trying to envelop her head.

Clenching her fists in frustration and rage, Rose screamed.


	2. Chapter 2

"Rose! Wake up!"

Something was touching her shoulder, holding her back. She swung her arms wildly, trying to swim through the blood, to reach her mother.

"Let me go!" she cried. "I have to get her."

"Rose." Now both her shoulders were held firmly, and she was pulled forward, her cheek touching something soft and cool. "It's all right. It's just a dream."

She opened her eyes. Her face was resting against the Doctor's leather jacket, and he had wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

She pulled back and blinked at him. "I—" Her voice refused her for an instant.

"You were havin' a bad dream," he said, his eyes fixed on her face. He was kneeling in front of her.

It took a moment for this information to register. It had all seemed so real, more real than any dream she'd ever had. And pain was still clamping her calf. She bent over to grip it with both hands.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Cramp," she said through gritted teeth.

He took her ankle and rested her foot on his thigh then slid his hands under hers. He began kneading at the knotted muscle with one hand, and she relaxed her fingers. He wrapped his other hand around her shin then pressed his thumb into the back of her knee, moving it in small, deep circles. For an instant Rose wanted to pull her leg back; his motions were causing her more pain. But then she felt the muscle loosen, and the cramp melted away.

"Better?" he asked, glancing up at her face.

She nodded. "Yeah, much. Thanks."

He grinned at her then returned his attention to her calf. He continued massaging the area for another minute. "Muscle's gonna be sore if we don't encourage the blood to flow through it. Some hydration'll help, too. Have to control that lactic acid, y' know."

Rose wasn't really listening to him. The images from her dream remained fresh in her mind, and she could still almost smell the metallic odor of blood.

"So what was the dream about?" he was asking. "Rose?"

She shook her head to clear it. "My mum."

"Yeah? That'd be a nightmare all right."

She punched his arm lightly then grew serious again. "She was in danger an' I couldn't get to her. Something was holdin' me back, holdin' my leg—"

"Funny how physical sensations can grow into full-fledged dreams."

"What d'you mean?"

He gave her calf one more rub then set her foot back on the floor. "You got a cramp in your calf, and it lead to a dream in which you were restrained by the leg."

"You think the cramp made me dream that?"

He nodded. "Yep."

"But that was only part of it," she said. She was frowning at the memory.

"Yeah? What else?" He stood up then perched on the arm of her chair.

"She was in a pool of blood, an' she walked right out into it… She looked like she was dead."

"Sounds gruesome."

"It was." She shook her head to try to clear it.

"How do you feel about crowds?" he asked rather unexpectedly.

"What?"

"Crowds, Rose. Like 'em? Hate 'em?"

"I dunno. London's crowded; it doesn't bother me."

"But the crowd today, at the marketplace. How did it make you feel?"

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Awfully concerned about feelings now, aren't you?"

"Right this moment, yes."

She exhaled slowly. "There were a lot of people an' creatures, an' it was pretty noisy an' thick."

"First time you'd ever been in a crowd like that, wasn't it?"

"S'pose so."

"Well then, that's the rest of it." He stood up with a self-satisfied smile and began to walk away.

"The rest of what?"

He stopped to turn back. "The rest of the dream. Big crowd like that's bound to make you feel a bit of claustrophobia first time you see it. You feel like you're gonna be sucked into it—just like your mum got sucked into the blood in your dream."

"So now you're Freud or somethin'?"

"Brilliant man, old Sigmund. Way ahead of his time, but bit of a misogynist, really—way too much emphasis on the mother's part in the development of the child's psyche. An' don't get me started on his ideas about conversion disorders—"

"Don't worry, I won't."

Rose stood, testing out her leg. She'd had a couple of cramps like this during the last year or two, and they always left the muscles tight and sore, but her leg felt fine now. The Doctor took her arm and turned her toward the interior corridor.

"Off to the kitchen," he said. "Have a nice big glass of water, maybe a banana for the potassium."

He gave her a small push, and she continued walking.

"Oh," he added, "an' while you're there, I wouldn't mind a cuppa."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yeah? Anythin' else?"

"Nope. That'll do."

Rose walked out into the hallway. The images from the dream were finally fading, but the fear she'd felt when she'd seen Jackie's frozen features and sightless eyes was still with her, gnawing at her stomach. Water might help, but she would definitely forgo the banana.

* * *

The Doctor spent the next several hours working beneath the console. He seemed pleased with the Divursticine, even humming little snippets of songs Rose didn't recognize.

She had wandered back into the console room more than once. After delivering the tea to him, she had tried to read, but she couldn't concentrate. She felt restless, so she had taken a long walk through the TARDIS's endless corridors. After more than an hour she realized that she was lost and almost began to panic, but then she was suddenly back in the hallway next to the console room. She poked her head inside to find the Time Lord still busy and completely preoccupied with his work. Rose took a stroll through the wardrobe room, briefly enchanted by the sheer variety of items and styles she found there.

But then she pulled out a woman's sweater that looked much like one of Jackie's favorites, and her thoughts returned to the dream.

Distracted again, she wandered back to the console room. Finally the Doctor had completed his task, or at least he had changed his position. He was standing before one of the screens, eyes flicking rapidly over whatever images or words had appeared.

"Did you finish it?" Rose asked, walking over to stand next to him.

He glanced over at her. "Almost."

"An' how's it working?"

He tapped at the screen with his finger. "Like I said, it's good stuff—best I've seen in over a hundred years. It's working pretty well."

"Good." Rose's tone, however, conveyed little enthusiasm.

The Doctor looked up from the screen. "What've you been doin' for the last couple of hours?" he asked casually.

She shrugged. "Just walkin' around."

"This whole time?"

"Most of it. I was in the wardrobe room for a while."

"I've known people who spent days in there."

"Yeah?" Again her tone was flat and disinterested.

"S'pose you're not that interested in clothes."

"Just not in the mood today."

Rose's fingers ran over the console, stopping to rest on an old-fashioned mechanical clock. The Doctor had rigged it to show the time in London.

"Nine at night," Rose muttered.

"Still thinkin' about your mum?" the Doctor asked.

"Can't seem to shake it," she replied.

"Give her a call," he said.

"You don't mind?"

"'Course not. Why else would I have fixed your phone?"

He was pleased to see a small smile cross her face. She reached into her pocket then frowned. Quickly she checked the other pocket in her shirt then shook her head.

"It's not here," she said.

"You must've dropped it. It's around somewhere."

Rose sighed in frustration. "Yeah, but where? I walked all over the TARDIS."

"Check the wardrobe room. It probably fell out while you were tryin' on clothes."

"I didn't try on anything." Rose began to walk toward the hallway.

Two small beeps echoed up from the screen, and the Doctor returned his attention to it. Rose hurried out into the corridor to search for her phone.

* * *

Rose felt as though she'd been walking for hours. It was virtually impossible to retrace her steps in the ever-shifting corridors. She passed the wardrobe room four times and her bedroom twice. On the third pass by the console room she nearly collided with the Doctor as he emerged out into the hallway.

"Any luck?" he asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his stomach.

"No."

"I'm sure it'll turn up eventually."

"I dunno. Can I call her from the phone in there?" She gestured toward the doorway.

"I'm still working on the communications system. You're gonna have to use your phone 'til I finish."

Rose sighed. "Maybe I lost it at the marketplace. Maybe we should go back there—"

"If it fell out there, it's long gone by now."

Rose began to move away, but the Doctor caught her arm.

"You could help me look, y'know," she said tiredly, pulling her arm out of his light grasp. "You know the layout of this thing much better than me." She started to walk away.

"Rose." He reached for her hand. "Just stop for a minute. Do you have any idea how long you've been searching?"

"Coupla hours," she shrugged.

"Five hours an' thirty-seven minutes. An' you were gone for over three hours before that. Don't suppose you stopped to eat or drink anything, did you?"

"I'm not hungry. Anyway, I only passed the kitchen once, an' that was a while ago."

He began to walk, still holding her hand so that she had to follow along. "Usually you humans can't stop thinking about food. An', while I think eating is over-rated, at least in the quantities that some humans do it, I do recognize that you lot need some food to keep your bodies going."

Rose could swear that they had taken less than twenty steps when the Doctor led her into the kitchen. Funny, she'd passed this doorway on her way to the console room and was sure that it was a store room…

He steered her to the table, where she sat down, finally feeling the effects of her ceaseless walking for the last eight hours. He set a tall glass of water in front of her, and she took a sip. It had a hint of lemon flavor and a bit of sweetness. She drank the rest in a few swallows.

After a minute or two, his hand appeared over her shoulder holding a bowl of soup. He placed it on the table.

"Tomato?" she asked.

"Yep. Eat up; it's good for you."

The soup was precisely the right temperature, but Rose's appetite was lacking. She forced herself to eat a few spoonfuls then pushed the bowl away.

The Doctor had taken the chair opposite her, and he slid the bowl back toward her. "Finish up."

"I'm really not hungry."

"Three more spoonfuls, then."

"Doctor, really—"

He shook his head. "No arguments, Rose. You've gotta eat."

She complied then quickly stood to pour the remaining soup down the sink and wash out the bowl. When she turned back, she found that the Doctor had stood and was now lounging against the door jamb.

"Come on, then," he said, holding out his hand.

She walked toward him. "You gonna help me search for it now?"

"I'll have a look round. But you're going to bed."

"After I find the phone—"

He shook his head. "Nope. Now."

"But I—"

He took her arm and guided her out into the hall. "You haven't slept in twenty hours. You sleep, I'll search."

Truth be told, Rose was tired. She hadn't felt it until she sat down, but now fatigue seemed to throb through her, weighing down her limbs and clouding her mind.

The Doctor pushed open the door to her room. "Sweet dreams," he said summarily and pushed her inside.

"You'll keep looking—" she began, but he closed the door.

Rose sank down onto the bed and kicked off her shoes. The Doctor was a walking conundrum. Most of the time he seemed completely oblivious to her human needs. More than once she'd had the embarrassing necessity to find a bathroom in the midst of some escapade, and he'd rolled his eyes at her, appearing annoyed by the tedious demands of her body. Yet now, when she really just wanted to keep looking for her phone, he was suddenly Mr. Sensitive. And people thought that women were hard to figure out…

With a tired sigh, Rose lay down and closed her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

The clock on the console showed 7:30 AM, London time. Rose should be sleeping deeply, probably in the midst of some restorative REM sleep. The Doctor had finished with the interface and was pleased with the results. He deserved a cup of tea.

As he walked toward the kitchen, he tried to remember where he had picked up his tea habit. Of course it had been in England, probably during his first incarnation, or was it during his second? Funny, he couldn't quite recall…

He blinked in surprise when he saw Rose sitting at the table with her own mug of tea in her hands. Her usually bright eyes and energetic expression were dull and slack.

"What're you doin' up?" he asked her.

"Couldn't sleep." She took a sip, and he noticed that there was no steam rising from the cup.

He frowned slightly. "More bad dreams?"

"No. Just couldn't shake the feelin' that somethin's wrong."

"With your mum, you mean?"

She nodded. "Sorry. I know it's stupid—"

He sat down across from her. "You don't have bad dreams very often, do you?"

She looked up in surprise. "How'd you know that?"

"You seemed pretty upset by the one you had. People who have frequent nightmares are usually less bothered by them."

"Thanks, Dr. Freud."

He waggled a finger at her. "Don't make fun of Sigmund!"

Rose grew serious again. "I've had nightmares before, but this one was different. It felt real—I could still smell the blood after I woke up."

The Doctor poured some tea from the pot that Rose had left on the table. The liquid was tepid, at best; she'd been in the kitchen for some time. "You've seen a lot of things in the last few weeks," he said, "things most humans don't even dream about. A lot if it's the stuff of nightmares—hell, sometimes even for me."

"Yeah. But the dream wasn't about any of those things."

"Doesn't matter. Human minds twist things around to try to make sense of them. It's how you lot deal with all the thoughts and emotions you can't stomach on the surface."

Rose considered his words for several seconds as she sipped at her cold tea. "Did you find my phone?" she finally asked.

"No."

She exhaled slowly. "I really wanted to call her."

He set his mug on the table. "Listen Rose, travelin' with me, you're bound to see new things, both beautiful and terrible. They're gonna have an effect on you. You can't help it; you're human. But you're gonna have to find a way to deal with them. That's just part of the package."

"So you think I'm just imaginin' that's somethin's not right with my mum—that it's just some sort of emotional reaction from all the stuff I've seen."

"Yep."

Rose slid her chair back from the table with enough force to cause a screech of wood against tile. She stood, eyes blazing. "So that's what you think of me, then? That I'm jus' some simple little human who can't sort out her feelings? Who lets her imagination get the best of her—"

"It's human nature," he interjected, irritation creeping into his tone. "You can't help it. But we're not gonna go off an' check on every person you know whenever you have a bad dream or get a funny feelin' in the pit of your stomach."

"Did I ask you to take me back to London?" Rose shot back.

"Not in so many words."

"Right—not in any words at all. I jus' wanted to call my mum, that's all." She whirled around and stalked out of the kitchen.

The Doctor sat for a few minutes staring at his tea. Finally he set it down on the table with a thud and stood to leave the kitchen. He was scowling, memories of other emotionally capricious companions running through his mind. He remembered Tegan's hot temper, Turlough's brooding, Ace's pugnaciousness… And he had cared about all of them, despite their human flaws.

He passed Rose's bedroom on his way to the console room. The door was shut, and he hoped that perhaps she was sleeping, but somehow he knew that she was not. He stopped for a minute to rest his hand against the wall beside the door. He had managed to overlook the imperfections in his other companions and even to find some of their traits rather endearing. In the short time he had known Rose, she had proven herself unflinching in the face of danger, willing to sacrifice her own life in an instant if it meant saving others. Yes, she was human, and truth be told, it was her humanity that drew him to her. She seemed to possess many of the best characteristics of her species—unlike her ridiculous boyfriend, Ricky. He scoffed at the memory of the young man cowering at Rose's feet. Yet she had stood tall, ready to face whatever was thrown at her.

The Time Lord ran his fingers along the wall beside her door then clenched his hand into a loose fist before turning and walking away.

* * *

Rose stayed in her room for several hours, her thoughts alternating between anxiety and vexation. She was still worried about her mother; that feeling in the pit of her stomach refused to fade away. She almost snorted when she imagined the Doctor's voice telling her that she just needed to eat… And then her anger rushed back, fueled by his arrogance, by his insistence that her feelings were just a reaction caused by her human weakness.

Finally she went into her bathroom to splash cold water on her face. When she looked up at her reflection in the mirror she saw that her eyes were puffy and dark. It was so easy to loose track of time while traveling in the TARDIS. She wondered how long it had been, really, since she had slept. Yet she didn't feel sleepy; her body was fatigued, but her mind was wide awake.

Maybe the Doctor was right. Maybe she was overwhelmed by all she had seen in the last few weeks. If she was honest with herself, she hadn't really processed it fully. She had seen her world explode, for God's sake—watched the Earth destroyed in a matter of seconds. And minutes before that she had nearly died, nearly been burnt to a crisp. Others had died that day, their lives extinguished in an instant.

"And that was only the bloody first day," she said aloud. Her voice echoed slightly in the small bathroom, and suddenly Rose felt very much alone.

She took a deep breath and dried her face, then walked out into the hallway.

* * *

The Doctor wasn't surprised when Rose entered the console room. He knew that she would find him eventually; they always did. But he was a bit taken aback by her appearance. She looked exhausted and disheveled. For an instant he was reminded that humans were not only emotionally fragile; their bodies were vulnerable, too.

She ambled toward him to stand on the opposite side of the console. He offered her a quick smile, and she responded in kind.

"So," she said softly, "how did the others handle it then?"

"Others?" he asked.

"You've had other people travel with you, yeah? I'm not the first, am I?"

"No."

"Did they have some sort of trick, some way to take it all in?"

He shook his head. "Not really. Some were better at it than others, but it got to most of them eventually."

"An' they left?"

The Doctor gave a half nod of acknowledgement. "Somethin' like that."

"How long did they last?"

He looked up at her, his expression somber. "Rose, this isn't what I meant to happen."

"It—" she paused, gathering her thoughts. "D'you want me to leave?"

"No." His response was immediate and firm.

"What do you want from me, then?"

He fixed his gaze on her. "I want you to want to be here. If you don't, then you don't belong with me."

"I do want to be here."

"You sure?"

She nodded then watched as he pulled and cranked the levers on the console.

"Where're we going now?" she asked.

He looked back up at her. His mouth was set in a hard line. "London. I'm taking you home."


	4. Chapter 4

Rose felt as though she'd been slapped. "That's not what I want," she began.

"It's what I want," the Doctor said, still fiddling with the controls.

Before she could respond, he continued. "I don't want you to worry about your mother while we're away. We'll get you a new phone so you can keep in touch with her. You can stop in an' see her for a while, too. Maybe spend the night, sleep in your own bed."

"An' what'll you do? You won't stay in London."

"I might. But whatever I do, I'll be here when you're ready to leave."

Rose's tension melted away in a huge grin. She hurried toward the door as soon as the ship materialized then glanced back at the Doctor. "You should come, too."

"Don't really fancy another slap," he said with a mock frown.

"See you later—coupla hours, yeah?"

"Yeah. An' when you get your new phone, be sure to get a good long distance plan."

Rose waved at him as she stepped outside in the wan London sunshine.

* * *

"Mum!" she called, turning the doorknob. "It's me!" She reached into her pocket but realized that she'd left her key in her room in the TARDIS. "Mum!" She knocked at the door.

The newspaper in front of the neighbor's flat was the Saturday edition, and the clock on the console had shown at it was 10:00 in the morning in London. Jackie should be at home, languishing over a late breakfast and catching up with her friends on extended phone conversations.

"Mum, come on! I came a long way to see you," she said, tapping at the window.

She peered inside, but she could not see her mother. Her eyes swept through the living room. Whatever Jackie had been up to, she'd left a mess. The couch pillows were strewn about on the floor, and the cushions were in disarray. Rose had the rather disturbing idea that her mum had been entertaining a man…

However, as she continued to look through the window, her thoughts quickly turned in another direction. Everything that she could see was knocked over or pushed aside. Rose's stomach knotted with fear again.

"Mum!" she cried, pounding on the door. She tried the knob again. It turned half-way in her hand then stopped. She grabbed it with both hands and wrenched it around. Something cracked, and the door swung open.

Glancing down, she saw that the door hadn't been locked; it had simply been jammed, the bolt slotted partially into the frame. For an instant she wondered how her mother had managed that. But as she got a good look at the complete disorder of the room she understood with finality that her mother had not been responsible.

A potted plant lay smashed on the floor, next to the wall. Rose recognized the plant as one that usually sat near the telly. It was clear to her that Jackie had hurled it across the room, probably trying to defend herself from someone. Rose hurried through the rest of the flat and found that most of the commotion had occurred in the living room. Jackie's coffee lay spilled on the kitchen table; it had grown cold some time ago.

Rose swallowed the panic rising in her throat. She had to remain calm; she had to find out what had happened. She forced herself to walk, albeit briskly, next door and knock on Mrs. Simmons' door. The elderly neighbor answered and greeted her warmly.

"'Ow've you been, dear?" she asked, taking Rose's arm to urge her inside.

"Fine, Mrs. Simmons, but I—"

"Come in, dear. Let me make you some tea."

Rose gently pulled her arm back. "I can't right now. I need to know if you heard or saw my mum today."

Mrs. Simmons thought for a moment as she adjusted her glasses over her nose. "She was watchin' a show early, when I woke up."

"Watchin' a show?"

Mrs. Simmons nodded. "I could 'ear it through the walls. Loud, it was. Lots of yellin' and throwin' things about."

"That was this mornin'?"

"Seven or eight. I was jus' puttin' on the kettle for m' mornin' tea."

"An' did you look outside? Did you see anything?"

Mrs. Simmons looked a bit remorseful. "Y' know I like your mum, Rose. But sometimes she's not as quiet as she could be. I was goin' t'go over an' tell her—ask her to turn down the telly."

"An' did you?"

The woman shook her head. "I was just about to go out when m' daughter called. Annie, remember her? She's livin' up in Edinburgh now, teachin' little 'uns."

"Mrs. Simmons, please. Did you see anything?"

The older woman sighed. "Some salesman, I think 'e was. Or maybe one of them religious folk who go round tryin' to convert people."

"He was here? At my mum's?"

"Saw 'im just outside the door. Big fellow—could've been a rugby player, 'e could."

"An' my mum was with him?"

"Oh, I don't know, dear. I started talkin' to Annie an' didn't look out again."

"Did you hear anythin' else?"

"Just 'er telly—but she must've turned it down just after that fellow left."

Rose nodded curtly then turned away. "Thanks, Mrs. Simmons."

"Rose." The neighbor reached out to grab her arm.

"Yeah?"

"You look tired, dear. Your mum said you'd been travelin'—"

"Jet lag," she replied briefly, then she hurried away.

She had to find the Doctor. He would know what to do. She ran down the stairs two at a time, barely keeping her balance in her haste. Six stairs from the bottom, she stumbled. Rose grabbed for the rail, managing to break her fall enough to prevent serious injury. Still, her knee slammed down hard on the edge of the stair. She struggled to regain her feet, glancing at the steps as she did.

Something on the ground just under the bottom stair caught her eye. Rose made her way down then bent to pick up a bracelet. It was a cheap piece of costume jewelry: a gold-plated band with rhinestone hearts all around it. She recognized it immediately as Jackie's.

Rose stood still for a moment to look around. She didn't see anything else belonging to her mother, but she did notice a button on the sidewalk. She picked it up to examine it. It was metal, maybe brass, but otherwise nondescript. Still, she tucked it into her pocket then ran to find the TARDIS.

Rose nearly cried when she found that the police box was gone. She hadn't heard it dematerializing, but perhaps she'd been inside her mum's flat at the time. Admittedly, she'd been a bit preoccupied. But the Doctor had promised that he would return and be waiting for her when she was ready to come back. She'd only been gone a short while; he must have thought she would stay with Jackie longer. And she would have if…

Rose shook her head to clear it. Until the Time Lord returned, she was on her own. She would have to begin searching for her mother without him. She only hoped that she could find her soon. Her stomach was aching with fear, and, despite what the Doctor had told her, she knew without a doubt that her dream, at least at some level, had become real.


	5. Chapter 5

The man who Mrs. Simmons had seen, as it turned out, had left an impression around the neighborhood. Rose questioned several people and found that they had noticed a huge man lumbering down the street, escorting a blonde woman. No one had caught more than a glimpse of the pair, however, so Rose did not know if her mother had been forced to accompany the man or not. The condition of the flat, though, left her with a fairly strong opinion on that point.

She found it rather strange, actually, that no one had paid the man more attention. All who had seen him noted his bulk, but no one could recall much else. It was almost as though they hadn't given him a second glance, which was odd considering the initial impact he'd had.

As she continued to question people, Rose moved away from her neighborhood. It seemed that someone on each block had seen a massive male walking with a woman, but that was all anyone could remember. Still, it gave Rose hope that her mother was unharmed. No one recalled seeing the woman in any type of distress. Was it possible, she wondered, that her mother had left with him of her own volition? But if that were the case, why was the flat so messy? Why had Jackie thrown the plant?

Rose had covered nearly two kilometers when she lost the trail. She was in a warehouse district with a just a few half-day workers milling about, and suddenly no one remembered seeing the man or Jackie. Rose questioned a handful of people with the same result. After nearly half an hour, she was feeling a terrible mix of discouragement and despair. She wandered a bit further, past the warehouses and back into a residential area, but she had no better luck.

Several people asked if they could call the police for her, but Rose declined. Every instinct told her that the police would be of no assistance. There was really only one person who could help her, and he had vanished into thin air.

It was time to check for the TARDIS again. Rose ran back through the warehouses and rows of dingy flats, pushing aside her fatigue. However, by the time she rounded the corner and saw the police box perched incongruously in its usual place, she was panting. She increased her pace and only slowed when she had pressed her hand against the door.

"Did you get a new phone?" the Doctor asked offhandedly. He barely glanced up at her from his position at the console.

"Doctor," she choked out, "it's—my mum—she's –" Rose coughed, trying to catch her breath.

The Time Lord finally looked up at her. In an instant he was at her side, taking her arm and guiding her to a chair.

"Sit," he said peremptorily.

She complied, although she was still attempting to tell him what had happened. But the more she attempted to speak, the harder it was to breathe.

"Rose," the Doctor said firmly, "just catch your breath." He crouched before her and placed his hands lightly on her knees. "In… out."

She opened her mouth to try to speak again, but he shushed her. For just a minute she allowed herself to concentrate on breathing.

"My mum's gone," she finally gasped out. "The flat's all turned over, broken pots an' stuff on the floor, an' the neighbors saw her with a man, a really big man, an' people saw them for nearly a mile then I lost them, no one had seen them past that, an'—"

The Doctor took her hand. "Okay. We'll find her."

Rose began to stand, but he kept her hand in his. "Just wait a minute. Let's figure out exactly what happened first. You went to the flat and she wasn't there, but it looked like there'd been a struggle."

She nodded. "Then I asked Mrs. Simmons if she'd heard or seen anything, an' she thought Mum'd had the telly on—she'd heard shouting and thumping—but I'm sure that was her struggling with him."

"Maybe. Did the description match anyone you know?"

Rose shook her head. "No."

The Doctor stood, gently pulling Rose up with him. "All right. Let's go back to her flat and have a look around."

They left the TARDIS and hurried back to the apartment. The door was still open, and the Doctor took a few moments to examine the bolt and the knob. Then he stepped inside, followed closely by Rose. He surveyed the chaos, eyes flicking around the room as his expression darkened.

"He forced her to go," Rose said. "She tried to fight him—"

"Looks that way." He began walking across the room, bending to look more closely at several items. He lifted a shard from the broken pot then tossed it aside.

"Whoever he was, he didn't leave anythin' here."

"Wait a minute," Rose said, digging into her jeans pocket. "I found this by the stairs. S'pose it could belong to anyone, but—" She held out her hand with the button on her palm.

The Doctor took it from her, inspecting it carefully. Rose was surprised when he pulled out the sonic screwdriver and ran it over the button. His frown deepened.

"What is it?" she asked, fear again clenching at her chest.

"It's an alloy—gold, molybdenum, an' a trace of Divurscistine."

"Divurscistine? That's the stuff I bought at the marketplace."

"Yep."

Rose felt herself blanch. "Oh God. That means he's an alien."

"Maybe, maybe not."

Rose snatched the button from his hand. "This isn't from Earth!"

"No. But we don't know for certain that it belongs to the man who took your mother. For that matter, what would an alien want with her?"

"I don't know!" Rose threw up her hands in frustration.

The Doctor grasped her wrist and pulled her right hand down. "What's this?" he asked, touching a dark spot on her palm.

Rose glanced down. "Dunno. It doesn't matter." She began to pull her hand back.

He held her hand firmly. "It might."

"Must've burned myself when I was makin' tea," she said. "But what the hell does that have to do with my mum?"

"Probably nothin', if it happened while you were makin' tea. Looks about twelve hours old. Does that sound right?"

"Yeah, probably." Rose managed to retrieve her hand.

The Doctor had turned to stare out the open door. "You said the neighbor saw the man."

"Yeah."

"Come on, then, let's see what she has to say."

The Time Lord waited next to Rose while she knocked on the door. Mrs. Simmons answered, seeming surprised to find Rose on the other side.

"Rose, love! What're you doin' 'ere?"

"Mrs. Simmons, I'm still lookin' for my mum. This is my friend, an' he wants to hear what you told me."

"What I told you?"

Rose nodded. "A coupla hours ago. About hearin' the telly and seein' the man—"

"I haven't seen your mum in ages. Wish she'd keep her telly down, though."

"Right. Like this mornin'," Rose prompted.

"Oh, remember Annie? She called today, or was it yesterday? She's teachin' wee ones in Edinburgh."

"I know. You told me already."

"I did?" Mrs. Simmons blinked at Rose and pushed her glasses up on her nose.

Rose grabbed the old woman's arm. "Mrs. Simmons, please. Tell us again what you heard an' saw this mornin'."

The Doctor placed his hand on Rose's forearm and pulled it away. "Mrs. Simmons," he said amiably, "Rose is going to make us a cuppa." He hooked his arm through hers and led her to the sofa.

Mrs. Simmons smiled. "She is? What a nice girl! Reminds me of my Annie, she does."

The Doctor tilted his head toward the kitchen, and Rose understood that he wanted her to step out of the room. She complied, but her impatience was growing.

Mrs. Simmons settled on the sofa with the Doctor next to her. He smiled affably and lifted his hand to her temple. For an instant she seemed about to protest, but then he pressed the fingers of his other hand over her forehead, and she closed her eyes.

"Think about this morning," he said softly, leaning close to her ear. "About Jackie."

Mrs. Simmons' eyelids fluttered, but her eyes remained closed. The Doctor closed his eyes, too, his brow furrowing in concentration. Rose watched from the kitchen doorway.

When she saw his expression change to one of anger, she hurried to his side.

"What is it?" she asked.

His eyes shot open. He dropped his hand from the elderly neighbor's temple and held a finger to his lips. Quickly he stood, easing Mrs. Simmons' head back against the cushions before removing his fingers from her forehead. He took Rose's arm and lead her out the door.

"What're you doin'?" she asked.

"I thought she was confused—maybe in the early stages of Alzheimer's—an' she couldn't remember clearly. I just took a peek into her memories."

"You can do that?" Rose asked incredulously, then she added, "What did you see?"

His frown deepened. "Not much."

"So nothin' that helps?"

"Oh, it helps a lot."

"What're you talkin' about?"

The Doctor took her arm gently and looked down at her. She was sure she saw sympathy in his expression, and that was more frightening to her than any other emotion he might have shown.

"Alzheimer's wasn't what was clouding her memories. The image of the man she saw was nearly erased."

"Erased? What d'you mean?"

"It was ephemeral, fading away even as I was seeing it."

"Doctor, I don' understand what you're gettin' at."

"Whatever she saw, it left instructions in her memory to delete itself."

Rose was growing more confused by the instant. "What? How could it leave instructions in her memory?"

"The human brain operates at some level much like a computer. If something isn't specifically saved in memory, it won't be available for access later, at least not consciously. You know that there are computer viruses that can mess with data, right? They enter the system through a piece of mail or even through contact with a web site. Whatever Mrs. Simmons saw was sort of like a virus in a piece of e-mail that she opened. Once it entered her mind, it brought instructions to corrupt the data, to erase it from her memory."

"That doesn't make any sense," Rose began to protest.

"I'm afraid that it does, at least to the Mogronons. They can convey messages to most species' minds simply by having the person look at them. They can make you forget what you saw."

"Why would they want to do that?"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "So that no one remembers them clearly."

Rose pressed her hand to her forehead. "That's why no one could tell me what the man with Mum looked like, isn't it?"

The Doctor nodded. "They weren't supposed to remember."

"So this Mogronon thing has my mum." She swallowed. "An' he doesn't want anyone to remember him. He's some sort of criminal, isn't he?"

"Depends on how you define 'criminal.' Mogronons have a nasty habit of taking what they want at whatever price they feel is fair to them. In their view, they aren't stealing, but in the view of most everyone else they are."

"Do you know what they look like?"

"Yeah, I've seen them a few times, an' their memory tricks don't work on me, at least not when I know what they're tryin' to do."

"Are they dangerous? I mean, are they violent or anythin'?"

He seemed hesitant to answer at first. "They're determined. When they want something, they'll get it, an' they aren't concerned about how."

Rose exhaled slowly, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "So what would they want with my mum?"

The Doctor took her arm again and lead her back inside Jackie's flat.

"Doctor? Tell me why he took her. Please."

"I don't know yet." He closed the door and positioned her against the wall. "Close your eyes, Rose."

"What?"

"Please, Rose, just do it."

She complied, and immediately she felt his fingers against her temples and his thumb press over her skull, just above her hairline. An image flashed through her mind.

"Concentrate on it, Rose," he way saying. "Look at it."

Rose tried to focus, but it was difficult; her thoughts centered on Jackie.

"Come on, Rose. You have to concentrate—it's the only way to help your mum."

Rose forced herself to center on the image as it flickered across her consciousness. She saw a hulking figure with a flat face and short, wiry hair. His small, narrow eyes were flecked with gold.

Suddenly the Doctor's hands were on her cheeks, and his face was very close to hers.

"Have you ever seen anyone like him before?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied slowly. "I have."

"Where?"

"At the marketplace, just after I got the Divursticine. He nearly bowled me over."

"He was by the vendors' stall?"

She nodded. "I think he was lookin' for them, but they'd all disappeared."

"Damn." His hands dropped to his sides as his expression darkened.

"I don't understand," Rose began, her frustration and fear growing. "Do you think it's the same bloke I saw there? That he's here now?"

The Doctor responded with a curt nod. "Mogronons usually avoid Earth. Terran humans' brains aren't quite as receptive to their manipulation as other species', an' they don't much like the gravity here; bit off for them, makes it just that much harder to move about quickly, as if they didn't have enough trouble with that already. Just goes to show you what inbreeding can do—nasty effects on neuromuscular development. Too much bulk an' not enough flexibility—"

Rose grabbed his arm. "Doctor! I don't care about any of that. Just tell me what's going on."

He looked down at her soberly. "They wouldn't be here if they didn't think it was important. I doubt it's a coincidence that you saw one of them less than twenty-four hours ago."

"So this is somehow connected to me?"

"Yeah, probably."

"But how? I didn't do anythin'—"

"Probably not, but they obviously think you did."

"You keep sayin' 'they.' You think there's more than one?"

He nodded. "They always travel in threes. Takes three to fly their ship."

"So where're the other two?"

"Probably wherever the one who took your mother is." He turned to walk out the door.

"Wait a minute!" Rose protested. "What would they want with her?"

He spun back around to stare at her. "You, Rose. They want you."


	6. Chapter 6

The Doctor was already descending the exterior stairs, two at a time. Rose struggled to catch up to him.

"Me? Why would they want me?"

"I don't know," he replied, glancing back over his shoulder. "I'm sure when we find them they'll tell us."

"How're we gonna find them?"

"Show me where they were last seen."

"But nobody saw them after that!"

"Exactly."

They had reached the sidewalk, and he was striding along at a rapid pace. "This way, right?" He cocked his head forward.

"Yeah, about a mile." She had reached his side and now half-jogged to keep up. "You think they're still there, by the warehouses?"

"Yep. If no one saw them, they must've ducked inside somewhere."

"What if they went back to their ship? What if they took her back to their planet?"

He shook his head. "Very unlikely. Think about it, Rose. The only connection the Mogronons have to your mother is you. You saw one—nearly bumped into him—twenty-four hours ago. Now he and his pals show up here and take your mother. Somehow they must've traced you an' ended up with her. They won't take her very far away until they find you."

"So they took her knowing that I'd come for her?"

"Probably. Or they may have thought that she had something they wanted—something you gave her."

"But I haven't seen her since I saw them!"

"No, you haven't. But they might not know that."

"So they could've taken her away, back to their planet, thinkin' she had whatever is was they wanted."

"No. Obviously she doesn't have it—for that matter, you probably don't, either."

Rose stopped, huffing slightly, and grabbed his arm. "But if they think I have somethin' they want, an' they took my mum to get it, what're they gonna do when they find out I don't have it?"

He smiled. "Oh, they'll let her an' you go—I think."

"You think?"

"Well, they do have tempers, them. But they're also very determined to get what they want. If you don't have it, they'll most likely try to figure out who does and go after them."

He continued walking, Rose trotting along next to him.

"It really is all my fault, then," she said after a few moments. "If anythin' happens to her, if they've hurt her, it's because of me."

"You couldn't have predicted this," the Doctor said with a glance down at her.

"I knew somethin' was wrong."

The Doctor focused his attention ahead without comment. They had nearly reached the block of warehouses. Rose was struggling to keep up with him; while her mind was wide awake, her body was rapidly losing energy. Still, her drive to find her mother was unwavering. She knew that she would keep moving, keep searching, keep finding the necessary vigor until it was over.

"Okay," the Doctor said, looking around. "This is where they were last seen, right?"

Rose nodded, trying to even out her breathing. She had been gulping at the air and it had left her slightly dizzy. For an instant the cement beneath her feet seemed to rock, and she moved to the side to steady herself.

"You all right?" the Time Lord asked, sparing her a questioning glance.

"Yeah, fine."

But as his eyes moved over her, he could see that she was exhausted. Her eyes were swollen, and her skin was pale, all color drained from her usually rosy cheeks. The knee of her jeans was torn and smeared with blood. He wondered when that had happened.

"So you said you thought they were around here," she was saying, obviously drawing on her emotions to fuel a second wind. "Tell me where."

The Doctor continued his perusal of the area, squinting in concentration as he studied each building in turn.

"No one remembers seeing them past here," Rose said. "They must've left the area—"

"Nope, that's not how they operate. The fact that no one can remember them shows that he made an extra effort here to erase all memories of him and your mum. He thought that would cover up his trail."

"But why would he come out here? If he thought Mum had something he wanted, why wouldn't he keep her at the flat?"

"I think he looked around there enough to know that it wasn't there."

"So he dragged her here? That doesn't make any sense!"

"It does if she told him to come here."

"Why would she—" Rose paused and took a breath. "She was trying to lead him away in case I came back."

The Doctor nodded and said soberly, "Yeah."

"She wanted to keep me safe," Rose murmured. Unexpectedly, she grabbed the Doctor's arm with more energy than he thought she possessed. "We have to find her—now."

The Doctor had removed his sonic screwdriver and was aiming it at the warehouses one by one. After a few moments he switched it off and pointed at one of the buildings. "I'm picking up human heat patterns in there. It looks like one or two bodies."

"It could be workers," Rose said, trying to remain calm though her heart was beating anxiously.

"Maybe, but look around. There's no one here now. They must've gone home for the day."

Rose began to hurry toward the warehouse, but he took her arm. "Wait a minute. We can't just go charging in there. Mogronons don't fancy surprises. We need to be quiet an' take our time."

He began walking slowly, keeping Rose's hand in his. Her palm was clammy and cool, and he could tell that she was frightened, but she did not falter. As they neared the warehouse, they crept low to the ground, heading toward a dusty window along the side of the building. Rose clambered up onto a crate to peer through the dim glass.

It was dusky inside the warehouse, but she pressed her face to the window, cupping her hands over her eyes. About twenty meters from the window, behind a stack of boxes, she saw a figure lying on the ground. The head was hidden from view, but the arms and legs were bound behind the person's back.

"Mum!" Rose cried, half-stumbling as she leapt off the crate and sprinted toward the door.

The Doctor reached for her, but she slipped out of his grasp. Quickly he stepped up onto the crate to look through the window. His eyes darted over the width of the room. There, running across the floor, was a wire…

"Rose!" he yelled, hurling himself from the crate and running after her, "stop! Don't go in there—"

She turned her head to glance at him. "I see her! She's in here." She was reaching for the handle on the large, metal door.

"No! It could be a trap—"

"I have to get her!" Rose flung open the door and dashed inside.

The Doctor was running, counting the seconds, knowing that she would have precious little time. She had surely triggered the system.

"Get out of there!" he shouted as he neared the open door. He could see her bending down by a prone form. He counted two more seconds, then, as if beyond his volition, his body fell flat on the ground as he cried, "Rose! Get down, behind those boxes, now!"

The blast threw the door from its hinges. It hurtled past him to land just a few meters away. He covered his head instinctively, feeling the burst of heat and already smelling the acrid smoke. The moment the ground stopped shaking he scrabbled to his feet and took a deep breath then hurried inside the warehouse.


	7. Chapter 7

Several empty wooden crates had caught fire; flames leapt up from the dry boards. The splintered remains of another crate lay scattered about. The bomb must have been hidden in there. The Doctor squinted through the smoke, heading for the toppled crates where he had last seen Rose.

She was sprawled on her side, her face smudged and her hair covered in fine ash. Next to her lay a man. His feet were tied with plastic cord, but his arms had been freed. Simultaneously the Doctor pressed his hands over Rose's and the man's wrists, frowning deeply. After a moment he bent to lift Rose. He would have preferred not to move her until he could determine whether she had any serious injuries, but the fire was spreading rapidly so he had little choice.

He carried her outside and settled her on the ground then ducked back inside to retrieve the man, who he dragged out by the shoulders. He lay the fellow next to Rose. She was opening her eyes, looking about blearily as she tried to push herself to a sitting position.

"Just stay still, Rose," the Doctor said brusquely. In the distance he could hear sirens; help was on the way.

Since Rose was conscious, he turned his attention to the other victim. The man had a deep gash on his arm that was bleeding profusely. Quickly the Time Lord removed the man's belt and secured it around his bicep, watching to see that the blood flow was ceasing.

When the Doctor turned back to Rose, he saw that she was sitting up and moving her legs around in preparation for standing. She was patting absently at abrasions on her cheek, which had apparently been scraped against the ground or a crate as she was pushed down by the blast.

"I told you to stay still!" he snapped, reaching for her shoulder to prevent her from further movements.

"Have to find her," she muttered, rubbing a hand across the soot that clung about her eyes. "Have to get to her before they—"

The Doctor wrapped his hands around her arms gently but firmly. "You're staying right here until the ambulance arrives."

"No, I'm all right," she protested weakly. Her voice was husky from the smoke.

"Damn it, Rose. You're lucky—an' I mean really lucky—you weren't killed in the blast. Why the hell did you go in there? I told you to stop." Anger darkened his expression, and his tone was harsh.

"I saw—" Her eyes flicked to the man. "I thought I saw her in there. I had to get her." She tried to push his hands away, but her grasp was fumbling at best. Her own hands were shaking.

"Rose!" He nearly yelled her name. "Stop it!" He steadied his voice somewhat, then added, "You need to stay right here and remain quiet."

"But I know where she is," she said. She glanced at the injured man again. "He told me. It's not far from here."

"Rose, you're hurt—"

"Doctor, she's my mum. I have to go to her." She managed to find his hand, and now her fingers curled around his loosely.

He felt somewhat comforted by the rapid improvement in her motor function. He pulled the sonic screwdriver from his pocket and switched it on.

"Stay still," he instructed curtly, "at least for the next few seconds."

He ran the small instrument over her then turned it off. "Look at me," he said, holding up a finger. He moved it along in front of her face, observing her eyes as they followed the motion.

The sirens had grown much louder, and the flashing lights from the emergency vehicles were visible now as they neared the warehouse. The Doctor stood and offered his hand to Rose.

"Come on," he said rather gruffly. "Let's go get her."

As the fire engines pulled up to the warehouse, the Doctor and Rose ducked around the side. She glanced back once and asked, "Will he be all right?"

"He's in good hands now," the Doctor replied.

"Did I cause the explosion?" she asked.

"Yes. They'd rigged it to go off a few seconds after the door opened." Seeing her stricken expression, he added, "But if it hadn't been you, it would've been someone else. That worker was lucky it was you. At least he got out."

"Was it because he saw them? Is that why they wanted to kill him?"

"I dunno, Rose. Tell me what he told you."

They had rounded the side of the warehouse and were now hurrying through a drive. Rose seemed to know where she was going, but the Doctor kept his arm around her for support. She was limping, though not badly, and he was sure that she was still shaken, both emotionally and physically, from the explosion.

Her voice was still gravelly as she said, "He told me a big man had come in with a blonde woman. He was just finishing an inventory, an' they seemed surprised to find him there. The Mogronon seemed to be lookin' for something, but the man told him that no one had been in the warehouse for days. Mum said she must've been mistaken. She'd given it, whatever 'it' is, to her boyfriend, an' he'd left it at the warehouse where he works. The man remembered she asked him where the mannequins were stored, an' he said he thought in this block over here." Rose pointed ahead to a cluster of warehouses about half a kilometer away. "Building C, he said."

"She's leading him on a wild goose chase," the Doctor said. "Must be stalling for time."

"I didn't believe him at first," Rose continued, seeming oblivious to the Doctor's comment. "Why would he be able to remember, anyway? No one else could. But then I saw this." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cell phone. "It's mine."

The Doctor stopped and stared down at the device in her hand. "Yeah, it is." He took it from her and studied it for a few seconds. "You must've dropped it at the marketplace, near where you saw the Mogronon. They traced it back here, back to Jackie."

Rose nodded somberly. "I led them straight to her."

"You didn't know," he began.

"Doesn't matter. It's still my fault."

Holding out the phone to her, he replied, "Let's just find her."

Rose reached for the phone. "Why'd he leave the bomb?"

"Covering his tracks, probably. That worker remembered what he'd seen an' heard. That means the Mogronon didn't use the memory deletion on him. Remember I told you that humans aren't quite as receptive as other species? It takes a pretty big effort for the Mogronons to arrange their facial features in just the right was to cause the memory wipe. The one who's got your mum is getting tired. His lot isn't very pleasant when they get tired—pretty grumpy, actually."

"Grumpy enough to leave a bomb," Rose said gravely.

She tucked the phone back into her pocket. The Doctor watched the movement then suddenly reached out to grab her wrist. He pulled her hand toward him, turning it up to expose the palm.

"This burn," he said, touching the dark spot. "It's perfectly round. I don't think you got it from making tea."

Obviously confused with his new train of thought, Rose shrugged. "Maybe not."

"Think, Rose! Where did you get it?"

She shook her head, trying to physically jostle herself back to full alertness. "I dunno."

"Come on, Rose. Just think about it!"

She lifted her hand to stare at the mark. "It was…" Suddenly she had a flash of the heat she'd felt when the tiny, quick Nermistican vendor gave her the disk that he'd indicated was her change. "At the marketplace, after I bought the Divurcistine. The change disk was hot."

"Hot? That's not right… Do you still have it?"

Rose opened her mouth then shut it. "I'm not sure," she answered slowly. She began patting at her pockets. She reached into one and pulled out a small, round, flat piece of metal. It was still warm to the touch and was growing hotter as she held it in her hand. "This is?"

He snatched it from her, studying it closely. "Yep, this is it. This is what the Mogronons want."

"They want my change? God, how much is it?"

He rolled the disk between his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. "It's not your change, Rose. It's an encoded chip. The material's very irritating to human skin—that's why it seemed to burn you."

"It's a computer chip?"

"Somethin' like that. It's how the Mogronons can send those signals out to control others' memories. They have a little implant at the base of the neck." He touched the area between his collar and hair. "It allow their nervous systems to function at the level necessary for them to influence the memories of others. This, though," he was now holding the sonic screwdriver over the chip, "is a new material—one I haven't seen before. I'm guessing that the Nermisticans developed it for the Mogronons then weren't happy with the payment offered. They knew the Mogronons would take it anyway, so the vendor passed it on to you to keep them busy until our little chemist friends could get away. They don't like to be short-changed; they'd rather give something away than sell it for less than they feels it's worth."

"An' the Mogronon found my phone an' figured out that I came from here."

"Yep. But the good news is that as soon as we give this to them, they'll be on their way."

"An' they won't harm my mum?"

The Doctor's expression, temporarily bright with his new understanding of the situation, darkened. "We should get to her as soon as possible." He took Rose's hand. "Come on."

* * *

Building C appeared deserted, as did its nearby counterparts on a Saturday afternoon. A quick scan with the sonic screwdriver indicated four humanoid forms inside. The Doctor informed Rose that all three Mogronons were likely with Jackie now. The Time Lord and Rose moved quietly as they approached the warehouse. This building did not have any windows, but they found a side door that the Doctor quickly unlocked with the screwdriver.

Rose reached for the handle, but he shook his head sternly and moved her hand away. Carefully he took the handle, pulling the door open just a centimeter or two. He was listening intently and sniffing at the air, sending Rose "be quiet" looks more than once.

Finally he eased open the door and slipped inside, whispering, "No sign of explosives here."

Rose followed him closely, willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the large building. She walked softly, ears straining to try to detect her mother's voice. She nearly jumped, however, when she heard a piercing scream.

"Mum!" she cried.

The Doctor clapped his hand over her mouth, regretting the action when she winced in pain. His fingers had pressed against the deep abrasion on her cheek.

"Quiet!" he admonished, removing his hand.

The Time Lord's eyes had adapted to the lack of light quickly, and he was able to negotiate a path through pallets of crates and containers. Keeping his hand around Rose's, he led her along. Soon they could hear a strident voice. The words were unclear, but the tone told them that someone—someone female—was pleading for her life.

"It's her!" Rose hissed.

She tried to push past the Doctor to hurry ahead, but he held her back. "Let me go first," he said firmly. "You stay here."

"But she's—"

He shook his head sharply. "She's going to be in even more danger if they feel threatened. I'll just give them the disk and bring her back here. Don't move."

Rose wanted to protest, wanted to be at the Doctor's side when he found her mother, but she tried to focus on the reasonable part of her mind that told her he was right. Nevertheless, it was difficult to remain standing still as he disappeared into the gray haze. She kept listening, Jackie's pleas continuing, and after a minute she could wait no longer. She crept ahead, feeling her way along through the shadowy obstacle course.

After perhaps thirty seconds the light increased, and Rose could see a room ahead with a half-opened door. Light streamed from the doorway, and she could now understand what her mother was saying. She stopped moving for a moment to listen.

"It's got to be around here somewhere!" Jackie's tone bordered on desperate. "He said he took it to work, an' when he got home it was gone. It must've fallen out of his pocket. Check by those pallets again. That's where he said he was workin'."

"Enough!" a deep voice rumbled. "We know it's not here. Our scanners would have picked it up. We've wasted enough time with you."

There was a sharp click, and Jackie gasped. Rose began to move again, but suddenly she heard a familiar Northern accent saying, "Is this what all the fuss is about?"

The Doctor had stepped from the shadows into the doorway. He held up the small disk in his hand.

The door opened fully, and two huge figures filled the open space. One reached for the disk, but the Doctor took a step back, snatching his hand away.

"Not so fast. You let her go first."

"We only want the disk," one of the Mogronons growled. "She's not important."

"I agree. Now just let her step past you and out here—"

"No," said the hulk on the right. "Disk first. We need it before we let her go."

"So you can erase her memory? Nope. That's not gonna happen. She walks away, then I give you the disk, you return to your ship, and we all get home in time for tea."

Jackie whimpered; she sounded as though she were in pain. Rose crept closer.

"Stop that!" the Doctor demanded. "Let her go! She's not going to tell anyone about you, and neither am I."

"You're with the Earth authorities—their law," said the Mogronon on the left.

"No, I'm not. I just want to make a fair trade."

Jackie yelped, and Rose took another few quick steps.

"You're alone?" one of the aliens asked.

Rose froze.

"Yep. Just me. I picked this up when I was buying Divurcistine from the Nermisticans. Expensive stuff—they overcharged me by at least nine thousand ighivs, but what can you do?"

Ignoring his banter, the Mogronon to his left said, "You give us the disk, then we give her to you, and we leave."

"No deal. No memory wipe for either of us."

Jackie cried out again, and the Doctor made a move toward the door, reaching into his pocket for the sonic screwdriver as he did. In a flash one of the Mogronons had grabbed his shoulders and pulled him inside. Rose heard the deep thud as he was slammed against the wall. The sonic screwdriver fell from his hand and began rolling across the floor.

The Mogronon had snatched the disk from the Time Lord's hand and was pressing his meaty palm over his comrade's neck. The Doctor seemed stunned; Rose could not see any movement from him. The screwdriver made a small clinking as it rolled, and one of the brutes looked down at the device. He lifted his foot with a satisfied grin.

Rose was only a few meters from the doorway now. She made a dive for the screwdriver, slapping her hand over it just before the massive foot landed heavily. She ripped her hand back, avoiding the very large shoe by only a few centimeters.

She could see inside the room now. The Doctor was struggling to his feet as one Mogronon held Jackie around the chest, his fingers clenched over her jaw to keep her head in place. The second alien stood in front of her, lowering his head.

"Jackie!" the Doctor cried, "look away! Close your eyes!"

But Jackie's eyes simply widened, and her expression quickly changed from one of abject fear to one of absolute blankness. The Doctor was frantically reaching back outside the door, searching for the screwdriver.

"I've got it!" Rose called, backing away from the Mogronon who was reaching for her neck.

"Setting 367!" the Doctor yelled. "Now!"

She had to look down to make the adjustment, and by the time she put her finger on the switch the Mogronon's hand was around her throat. He was dragging her up, cutting off her airway as he did. She was immediately dizzy, consciousness slipping away quickly under his iron grip.

"Rose! Do it!"

Spurred by the Doctor's voice, she forced her finger to flick at the switch as blackness swirled all about her. She was slipping away, the screwdriver sliding from her slackening grasp… and she had no idea if she'd even switched it on.

Suddenly she collided with something very hard, her head and back slamming against the floor. There was a pulsing, a throbbing in her temples, and she was sure it was due to the asphyxiation. Then the blackness yielded to a bright, bluish light. Rose was certain that she was dead.


	8. Chapter 8

Something was sliding under her shoulders, lifting her from the ground… or was she floating up, toward the light? Rose blinked. The light was gone—at least the brighter, bluer one. Now she saw the glow cast by the ceiling fixtures just a few meters above her.

The Doctor was gently easing her up from the floor, cradling her shoulders in his arm.

"You okay?" he asked, his blue eyes seeming to bore into her.

She nodded. "I think so. What happened?"

He grinned. "Setting 367 altered the lights so that the ultraviolet was predominant. Mogronons can't stand that wavelength, and the instant you switched the screwdriver on they ran for the doors. Clever idea."

His brief, self-congratulatory smugness left him as he helped her to stand, still watching her carefully. However, now his eyes flicked to the interior of the room, too.

"We need to get out of here, though. They'll be back, I'm sure, to clean up any loose ends—"

Rose coughed and rubbed at her throat. "You mean us?"

He nodded. "Yep."

Rose took a few tentative steps. Her entire body ached, and her head and back were close to throbbing. But she needed to see that her mother was unharmed. She placed a hand on the door frame and leaned inside.

Jackie stood immobile near the back wall. She was staring straight ahead, eyes unfocused and unseeing.

"Oh God, Mum!" Rose cried, hurrying forward to envelop her mother in her arms. "Are you all right?"

The Doctor placed a hand on her shoulder. "We need to take her away. Now, Rose."

"But look what they've done to her—"

"She can walk. You just need to lead her." He took Rose's arm and placed it around Jackie's back, then he looped his own over the older woman's shoulders. "Come on."

They manoeuvred Jackie out of the warehouse then into the alleyway. She did not resist their efforts to move her. Indeed, she walked along easily at their sides with unfaltering steps, but she did not respond to Rose's attempts to talk to her.

"Should we take her to the hospital?" Rose asked the Doctor worriedly.

He shook his head. "They wouldn't be able to do anything for her." He was looking around, his eyes scanning the area and the sky. After a few moments he smiled tightly then said, "Come on. Let's take her home."

If the truth were told, the walk back to Jackie's flat was more difficult for Rose than for her mother. The young woman stumbled along, valiantly fighting off her exhaustion and pain. The Doctor was aware of her efforts, and he kept watch for a taxi, but none drove by.

Finally the large complex came into view, and the Time Lord urged the two women ahead. Rose had trouble with the stairs; her feet seemed to get caught between the steps. Still, she persevered, managing to make it to the top without losing her grip on her mother. Once inside the flat, she and the Doctor led Jackie to the sofa and eased her down.

Rose had needed to concentrate all her efforts on just walking, just staying on her feet. After her initial inquiry to the Doctor she had remained silent. Now, however, she took Jackie's face in her hands and leaned over her.

"Mum?" she asked, "can you hear me?"

Jackie continued to stare straight ahead.

Rose turned back to the Doctor. "What's wrong with her?"

He had withdrawn the sonic screwdriver and now gently moved Rose aside. Taking Jackie's chin in his hand, he concentrated the small instrument on her eyes. After a few seconds he said, "She'll be all right."

Rose gripped her mother's hand. "But what did they do to her?"

"They attempted to erase all traces of themselves from her memory. That part worked; she probably won't remember anything about the last twelve hours or so. The new disk made the erasure process more powerful than they usually manage, though, so her brain's a bit scrambled right now."

"Scrambled? What do you mean?"

"It's sort of like when a computer malfunctions an' the bits from the files get all mixed up. Sometimes you just need to turn it off then reboot it an' everything goes back to normal. She's shut down right now—her mind is resting until it can put everything back together again."

"How long will it take?"

"Probably about twelve hours or so. She should be fine when she wakes up in the morning."

"So what can we do for her in the meantime?"

He grabbed a pillow from the floor and set it behind Jackie then eased her back to lie down on the couch, lifting her legs and settling them on the cushions. Rose watched as he placed his hand over her forehead, ring finger on one temple and thumb against the other.

"She just needs to sleep," he said, and Jackie closed her eyes.

"That's it? That's all you're going to do?"

The Doctor turned back to Rose, who still stood fretfully at Jackie's side. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "She's going to be all right. I promise."

Rose looked back down at her slumbering mother. Jackie's expression was peaceful, and she appeared relaxed. Rose carefully tucked a blanket around her then sank down and rested a palm over her cheek.

After a minute or so, the Doctor took Rose's elbow and urged her up. "Come on," he said.

"Where?"

"Back to the TARDIS."

"No, I'm going to stay with her until she wakes up."

His eyes ran over her battered and bedraggled body, from head to toe. "I can sort you out in no time. You'd be gone less than an hour."

Rose shook her head resolutely. "She needs me."

"And when she wakes?"

"If she's really all right, I'll come back with you."

He did not respond to this. With a glance at the door, Rose added, "An' besides, what if they come back? You said they'd want to finish the job. They know she lives here."

"They're gone. I saw their ship take off as we were walking back."

"You sure?"

He nodded. "Yep. S'pose the light trick drove them off. Guess they really didn't want to face that again—awfully uncomfortable for them."

Finally reassured that the danger had passed, Rose permitted herself to take a deep breath. Suddenly she was utterly and completely exhausted. Her knees felt like jelly, and her hand tightened around the Doctor's arm.

He looked down at her. "Come on, then," he said, already leading her away.

"No, Doctor, I have to stay—"

"Here. I know. You're just going to lie down for a while. I'll keep an eye on her."

Reluctant as she was to leave her mother's side, with each second Rose's body was growing more insistent that she heed the Time Lord's advice. She permitted him to take her to her bedroom, where she had to use every last ounce of her strength to keep from falling onto the bed. Instead, she sat down slowly, deliberately, keeping her movements steady until she lowered her head to the pile of pillows. In a very few seconds she had slipped into deep slumber.

* * *

The Doctor stood watching Rose for some time. Finally he left her room to return several minutes later with bowl of warm water, a flannel, and a towel. She was sleeping soundly, and she did not stir as he carefully removed her jacket. He set the garment aside then touched the bruises forming on her throat with his fingertips. The Mogronon had held her tightly, and he was surprised that she hadn't suffered any serious injury from the thug's attempts. Softly he ran his fingers over her neck. Her face twitched once as he touched a particularly tender spot, but she did not wake.

He slid his hand down between her head and the pillows to feel about her skull, frowning at the bump he found over the parietal bone. It was on the same side as the abrasions on her cheek; he thought that she must have hit her head when she was knocked to the ground by the explosion. A surge of anger rushed through him, and he allowed it to simmer for a few seconds before pushing it back down beneath the surface.

He turned his attention to her face, wiping away the soot then gently bathing the abrasions with warm water. Rose began to rouse; he saw her eyelids moving and immediately sensed the subtle change in her breathing and heart rate.

"Sleep, Rose," he murmured, placing a hand over her forehead just as he had done for Jackie. She sighed almost inaudibly then sank back into slumber.

She did not feel the tiny tingling from the sonic screwdriver as the Doctor healed the deep scrapes on her cheek, the lump on her head, and the bruises on her neck. She was not aware of his movements as he eased her onto her side then lifted her shirt to examine the abrasions and bruises on her shoulders and back. He quickly healed each wound then lowered the shirt back into place.

He was slipping the instrument back into his pocket when he noticed again the ragged scrape on her knee. He cleaned away the blood then repaired the torn flesh. Satisfied that she was in no danger and would rest comfortably now, he pulled a blanket from the foot of the bed and tucked it around her.

Before leaving the room, he bent to kiss her forehead lightly, whispering, "Sweet dreams, Rose, only sweet dreams."

* * *

When Rose awoke, she smelled coffee immediately. She felt groggy and disorientated at first, but memories of the day's events returned as soon as she realized that she was in her own bedroom in her mother's flat.

She sat up quickly, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and standing abruptly. Dizziness lapped at her senses, trying to wash over her, but she took a deep breath and pushed it away. Still, she required a moment to stand by the door, hand on the frame, to steady herself fully.

When she stepped out into the living room, she found the Doctor sitting in a chair next to the couch. He was reading a book, a look of bemusement upon his face.

"How is she?" Rose asked, hurrying toward Jackie, who still lay sleeping on the couch.

The Doctor looked up at her with the beginnings of a smile, then abruptly frowned. "You all right?" he asked.

"Little sore, that's all." She was bending over her mother.

"She's okay, Rose. I've been watching her. She'll come out of it in an hour or so."

Rose straightened, and the dizziness sprang back at her. She blinked and tottered back a step. The Time Lord's strong hands caught her shoulders, and he moved around to stand in front of her. He lifted her chin with his thumb, resting his fingers against her neck.

"Maybe I was keeping an eye on the wrong Tyler," he said. "You feelin' dizzy?"

"A little," she admitted.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I have just the thing for that."

He led her to the kitchen, where she saw that he had taken a carton of eggs and a block of Irish cheddar from the refrigerator. They waited on the counter next to a large frying pan. He pulled out a chair for her, and Rose sat.

"You haven't eaten anything in nearly twenty-four hours," he said with a shake of his head. "You humans aren't very good at keeping your metabolisms going without at least a bit of sustenance."

He set a mug of coffee and a glass of orange juice in front of her then turned to the stove, where he busied himself with the eggs.

"Drink the juice first," he advised. "It'll get your blood sugar back up."

After draining the glass, Rose poured some milk into the coffee then took a sip. The dizziness was abating already.

"How long did I sleep?" she asked. It was still dark outside, so she couldn't tell what time it was.

"Eleven hours," he replied, and she thought she caught a hint of concern in his voice.

She ran a hand through her tangled hair, already anticipating the shower she would take as soon as she had eaten. As she smoothed a few tendrils away from her face, she touched her cheek, then patted at it curiously. She reached for a spoon and peered at her distorted reflection in it.

"It was all scraped up before," she said, wondering if her memories were still cloudy.

"Hmm?" He turned around, holding a plate of scrambled eggs. He handed it to her.

"My face," she began. "I thought I scraped it during the explosion." She was still touching the newly healed skin.

He shrugged and smiled without a hint of humility.

"You did this?" she asked in surprise. "How?"

"I've got a few tricks up my sleeve," he replied. He nodded at the plate. "Now eat."

Rose was famished, and she gladly complied. When she had finished, partially spurred on by the Doctor's short harangue about the historical inaccuracies of the gothic romance novel he'd been reading she stood. The muscles in her legs and back protested their recent abuse with sharp twinges of pain, and she couldn't prevent the grimace that swept across her face.

"Sore?" he asked.

She nodded. "Guess a shower'll help."

"Sorry I couldn't do much about that. If you'd come back to the TARDIS, I could've—"

"'S okay," Rose interjected. "I'm fine. I jus' wanna get cleaned up before Mum wakes."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Get to it, then."

Rose felt much better when she emerged from her room twenty minutes later. She was dressed in clean clothes and running a comb through her hair. The Doctor had taken his place in the chair near the couch again.

"She's going to wake up soon, right?" she asked.

He glanced up and nodded. "Yep. Any minute now."

"How can you tell that?"

"Eye movement, breathing," he responded succinctly, as though she would understand what he meant.

Rose moved to the couch and sat down. Jackie's eyelids fluttered then opened. She blinked at her daughter.

"Rose?" she asked. "Darling, you're home." She sat up to embrace the young woman.

"Yeah," Rose replied. "Jus' for a little while."

Jackie pulled back and looked around, frowning when she saw the Doctor's smiling face. "When did you get here?" she asked.

"Just in the nick of time," the Doctor said.

Rose looked back at him quizzically.

"You fell and hit your head," he told Jackie. "We got here just after it happened. You've been out for quite a while."

Jackie reached up to feel about her crown. "Fell? I don't remember that—"

"You sure?" he queried, bending down to look directly into her the eyes. "Seemed like you'd got up on a stool to reach into the cabinet above the sink."

Jackie frowned, considering this. "I—oh, yes, I think I do remember that."

"How's your head feelin'?" he asked.

"Little sore."

"Yeah." He straightened and took a step back.

"How long was I out?"

"Quite a while, Mum," Rose replied, taking her hand. "It's night now."

"Night?" Jackie repeated. "So I was unconscious for what, nine or ten hours?" She rubbed at her head, scowling. "Did I go tohospital?"

Rose glanced up at the Time Lord. "No," she said quickly, "the Doctor took care of you right here."

"But I might have concussion or brain damage—" Jackie protested.

"Nope, no such luck," the Doctor said, ignoring Rose's glare.

"You sure?" the older woman asked.

Rose looked back at her mother. She hated to lie, but she needed to protect her mother from the truth. "The Doctor brought some equipment from the TARDIS. He checked you over an' made sure you were okay."

"Checked me over?" Jackie fingered the top button of her blouse.

"Just your head, Jackie," he said with good-natured exasperation.

Jackie took a few seconds to process all the information then pressed a kiss to Rose's forehead. "Well, I'm glad you're back."

"Yeah," Rose replied, "me too. Are you hungry? The Doctor's made eggs."

"He can cook?" Her eyebrow shot up.

"He can do a lot of things," the Time Lord retorted, retreating to the kitchen.

"So how are you, darling?" Jackie asked, taking Rose's face in her hands. "You look a little tired."

Rose smiled. "No, I'm fine, Mum, really fine."

* * *

Shortly after dawn, the Doctor and Rose returned to the TARDIS. Breakfast with Jackie had been about as much time with the woman as the Doctor could tolerate, and, although he told Rose that he could come back for her later in the day, she remembered all too well the panic she'd felt when she found the TARDIS gone some twelve hours earlier. She decided immediately to accompany him. Jackie protested, of course, but Rose promised to return soon and to call her in the meantime.

Rose found the familiar hum of the engines comforting. She felt safe inside the time ship, safer than anywhere else. Funny how once, a long time ago, it was her room at home that seemed the safest place of all…

"Got your phone?" the Doctor asked as he activated the time rotor.

She patted at her hip pocket. "Yeah."

He nodded. "Wouldn't want you to lose it again." His tone contained just a hint of admonishment.

"I won't." She ambled over to the console to stand beside him, watching his hands meander over the controls. "Where're we goin'?" she asked.

He glanced at her but did not look her fully in the face. "Somewhere peaceful."

"Peaceful? We've never tried that before."

"It's time."

"Yeah? An' why's that?"

"Because," he lifted his head, "I want to show you something nice."

"I can handle the other stuff," she began, defensiveness creeping into her voice.

"I know you can. But you shouldn't have to, at least not all the time."

Rose was frowning now, crossing her arms over her chest. "You still think the dream I had was because of all the bad things I've seen."

He placed his hand on her shoulder. "Actually, no, I don't. I think that, at some level, you knew that your mother was in danger. Even though you weren't consciously aware of it, you probably knew that the Mogronon had taken your phone. Your subconscious made the connection between that and your mother."

Rose's expression showed her surprise. "I dunno," she said dubiously.

He tapped her forehead gently. "I do. An' I see now that there's a lot going on in this head of yours, Rose Tyler."

She blinked, thinking that his words were a compliment but unsure quite how. "Thanks, I think."

He fiddled with a few more switches, then Rose felt the TARDIS materialize. The Doctor took her hand with a grin and walked with her to the door. With a flourish, he swept his hand out at the vista before them.

"The stuff of dreams," he said, and he led Rose outside.


End file.
